


Let's Go Down Memory Lane

by CosmicJ_Writing



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Porn, Cursed, Depression, Forced Relationship, Forced Sex, Forced wincest, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Incest, M/M, Polyamory, Rape, Sibling Incest, Suicide, Wincest - Freeform, Wincest porn, Witchcraft, polyamorous, vampire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-10 12:17:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6984727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicJ_Writing/pseuds/CosmicJ_Writing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam thought his brother was dead, except he's not and he's holding back secrets, secrets that apparently will kill Sam? Sam is not so sure. There's pain behind his brother's eyes. Something happened, and Sam wants to know what. Why did Dean run? Why did he have Cas remove his memories? Why the hell did he have to believe his brother was dead? After a failed hunt, and the departure of Sam's older brother, Cas returns, and he's come to give back what was stolen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What, Why, and How

For years Sam thought his brother was dead. Years he believed that no longer had any family, and no real place to call home. He refused to go back to the bunker. He believed, without a shadow of a doubt, that his brother had wrecked in a vehicle collision, destroying both the Impala and the other driver's car. He believed that he wrapped his brother in a bed sheet and burned his body. Dean was dead, and this time Castiel couldn't bring him back, demons refused to come when he called. Dean was officially dead, and that was it.

Sam made home in a broken down motel that sat on a barely active highway. He spoke with the manager about fixing the place up; ironically he wasn't the only resident residing in the old place. After de-ghosting the place, he started fixing the plumbing, painting the outside, and doing general management. The manager thanked him right after he fixed the neon sign that once stood pathetically, and now stood proudly outside. James, the manager, told Sam that despite his motel sitting on a sleepy road, a few people came and stayed the night. He thanked him for that too. The hotel looked in a somewhat good condition. James said, "If you ever need a place to call home, come here. You always have a bed to sleep on here." Sam hardly believed that. If he ever stopped here again, James would have been dead. He was eighty-nine after all. 

Sam continued hunting. He swept through buildings, busting up ghosts, and getting rid of mice if someone need him too. There was nothing else to do. A few times he'd join a fellow hunter he met by chance, to behead vampires, or kill a werewolf. He managed to run into a wendigo. Flares really are a blessing.

This was Sam's life now, and he was okay. 

For years Sam thought his brother was dead, until he didn't anymore. He was walking out of market place right after a questioning when he spotted him. Dean was leaning against his Impala, head down, and his arms crossed. Sam could make out his face, and what he saw made his gut twist in an uncomfortable way. Dean's face was dark, like he had made the most unforgivable mistake. Appearance wise, Dean looked the same, but his face just held a look like he aged a hundred years. When he looked up, there was no emotion in his forest green eyes other than hate, anger, and guilt. 

"Don't ask questions. Just get in the car."

"Dean,"

"I said don't ask questions." Dean slid in the driver's seat, slamming the door behind him. Sam had done as he was told, buckling his seatbelt and looking ahead. He had questions, so many questions running circles in his head, and an overwhelming urge to just hug his older brother. He wanted to make sure he was real, make sure he wasn't just hallucinating. Instead he did nothing; just clasped his hands together and sat uncomfortably in the seat. He felt closed in, and way too big. Once upon a time, there was no where more comfortable then his place in the shotgun. Now, he was suffocated, with his questions, and his brother. He hardly realized, that he just walked away from a case. 

Dean finally spoke when he stopped in front of the bunker's garage doors. "I need help. There's a nest of vampires, a big nest, who have taken a liking to witchcraft. If I thought I could have done it by myself, I wouldn't be asking for your help."

"You're alive," was all Sam could say, staring slack-jawed at his brother. Dean shook his head. "Explain that to me."

"It was clear you wanted out, I asked Cas to work his voodoo on you. He took your memories and put a few fake one's in their place. I could hunt on my own."

"Obviously you can't if I'm here." Sam spit, suddenly angry and betrayed. How could he do that? How could Cas do that to him? How could Cas even allow that? Sam spun, facing the airbag. "And for the record, I never did stop hunting."

"Shame," Dean muttered less than caring, throwing open the driver's door and sliding out. In that moment, Sam wanted to yell. He wanted to snap at his brother and shake him by his shoulders. 

Dean had made some friends during his years lacking Sam, a hunting couple who went by the name Pepper, and her boyfriend ironically named Hunter. Sam greeted them with a happy smile, shaking their hands and even awkwardly accepting Pepper's friendly hug. They explained to him that they had lost their girlfriend to the nest of vampire witches and had asked Dean for their help. Sam had to guess that this nest must have been huge if Dean was inviting him to hunt with his new friends.

"I'm pregnant," Pepper told Sam. "I would be out there myself, but Hunter won't let me. I'm worried sick about Alicia. I know Hunter is too. I just hate being so immobilized. Dean must really trust you."

"He's my brother." Sam said gently, but Pepper's face twisted in a confused look.

"Dean said his brother was dead." She said. Sam's heart dropped. He turned his head to his older brother, who had a face that looked like he never smiled. Not only did Sam once believe Dean was dead, but Dean wanted to believe that Sam was too. 

Sam stepped back, trying to sort out his thoughts. He no longer had questions for Dean Winchester, only just one: why.

Turns out, Hunter was a tech genius, and one of his favorite inventions was a beetle made of gears, wires, and a tiny camera. He had sent one out ahead of time and placed it in a dark corner of the bloodsucking witches' barn. The man had counted at least thirty vampire witches. They were all female, other than the one male that seemed to stay in the middle watching over everything. Five of those thirty were chained up. Hunter assumed they were fledglings, new mates for the leader. Alicia was one of those five. 

"I've drawn up a plan," Dean said. "There's an opening at the top of the barn, with two sleeping beauties beneath it. Sam you'll hit them with dead man's blood before they can get their hands on you. You'll drop down on the witch bitch that watches the front door and draw attention away from the back entrance. Of course some will be expecting a hit from behind which is why Hunter, you will follow after Sam through the opening. You will stay hidden instead going through the back. I'll do that. The ring leader won't know which to go after, Sam or myself. You'll sneak through the rafters and drop on him before he has a chance to decide. Sam and I will take care of the rest, until one of us dies, or until you manage to behead the leader and decide to help us out."

It was evening when they put the plan to action. Sam had fallen from the barn's opening at the top, his syringes of blood out and poised over the two sleeping vampire witches' necks. He sliced their heads off as quietly as he could, and quickly dropped down on the one bulky witch at the front of the barn. They struggled, but Sam was lucky enough to dig his blade deep enough into her neck that she finished the job on her own. At the same time he yelled at oiled haired ring leader, Dean broke through the back. He swung his arms out dramatically, perfectly timed, and Sam watched heads roll. 

"Hunters!" The leader screamed, and Hunter was on top of him. Few minutes later, Sam stood weakly, panting and sweaty. Dean looked the same. 

"Alicia!" Hunter had ran to his red haired girlfriend. He was cautious to lift her face. He had started crying, lifting his hands to unlock Alicia's chains. She was pale, and it was way too late. Blood had long been coated and dried on her mouth and neck. 

Just as Sam turned away, something grabbed his ankle. 

"You're one of the brothers," A witch wheezed, grinning past her once pearly white teeth.

"What?" 

"How are you after your little horny episode?" She licked her lips. "I bet your brother enjoyed every second of it." The bitch started laughing, cackling even, until Dean brought his blade down and brought her cackle to an end.

"What was she talking about?" Sam breathed, shaken up and still high on adrenaline.

"You don't need to know." Dean said briskly.

"The hell I do! You were dead Dean! And then you weren't, because you were never dead, I just had fake memories shoved into my head! What was she talking about?! Tell me!"

"You don't need to know!" Dean glared, with more hatred in his eyes. "If you knew, it would kill you!"

"Kill me, or you?! Ever since I joined you yesterday, you've been nothing but angry and guilty, like you broke the most important rule! Now there's a witch telling me she cursed me?"

"Guys, I know what you're talking about is probably important but-" Hunter said weakly.

"It's not important." Dean muttered, shoving past Sam and to Hunter's side. Sam just stood there, so aggravated and frustrated. He hated not knowing things, and hated his brother even more for keeping secrets from him. 

Alicia got a hunter's funeral. Hunter and Pepper wrapped their girlfriend in a bedsheet and carried her to a bed of perfectly laid out wood and tree branches. Dean poured gasoline around the branches, Hunter was the one to drop the flame. Pepper hid her face in Hunter's chest, weeping in his arms. Sam wanted to properly confront his older brother, but here and now, was not the place or time. 

After Hunter and Pepper left the bunker, Dean drove Sam back to his vehicle. Sam had completely forgotten his case. 

"Will you ever tell me what happened?" Sam asked. Dean's only response was to reach over and unlock Sam's door. In the process, Dean's elbow grazed Sam's shoulder and caused the younger brother to shiver. Dean snatched his arm away and gabbed onto the wheel, fear leaking into his forest green eyes and panic sweeping through his entire form.

"Get out." He ordered.

"Dean-"

"I said get out!" Sam's brother punched the wheel, causing the horn to blare. Sam didn't move. He watched Dean crumble against the wheel of his beloved car. "Please get out. I should have never come and got you in the first place."

"How many people have you told, that I was dead." Sam asked, his voice falling warmly, and gently. 

"Everyone."

"Why?"

"Because it was easier then telling them the truth."

"What was the truth Dean?" Sam asked. Dean didn't answer this time. He just repeated his order to get out, and Sam obeyed. 

Dean drove away, with angry tears falling down his cheeks. "Show him the truth Cas," he whispered, rubbing his snotty nose in his sleeve. "Tell him I'm sorry."

Cas was sitting on Sam's bed when he got back to his motel room, staring straight ahead until Sam opened the door. Sam spoke, "When did you get here?"

"Just now. I've been waiting for you."

"Are you going to tell me why Dean chose to avoid me and have you take away my memories?" Sam asked coldly, dropping his grocery bag full of trail mix and a salad bowl he bought from a deli. 

"No." Cas answered, causing Sam's hope to plummet. So much for answers. "Dean has decided for me to give you your memories. He says he's sorry."

"Why would he be sorry?"

"Don't think badly of him Sam. If you only you knew how he feels." Cas reached and pressed his middle and fore finger against Sam's forehead. The male's knees buckled, and vision darkened. 

The last thing he heard was his brother's voice saying, "I'm so sorry Sammy. I am so, so sorry."


	2. Missing Memories

When Sam's eyes opened, he knew in a second that he was only dreaming. He couldn't control his movements, however it didn't seem to matter. Any time he moved in any sort of way, it was because he also wanted to. It was a strange feeling to have no control, but also be pleased? Sam's eyes moved to scan the screen of his laptop. He couldn't read it. His vision fogged over any time he tried to focus. He did however pick out names, and places.

"So a woman by the name Freeda Garville, choked to death the same time her husband was burned alive." Sam spoke, words he didn't remember thinking, falling freely and smoothly. He turned his eyes up his brother's, who chewed wholeheartedly on his new prize. Bacon hung from the side of his mouth.

"Okay, so how is this our case?" He asked defiantly, moaning into his burger. Sam rolled his eyes, a corner of his mouth twitching.

"Well, they did die at the same time for starters, in different places. Freeda at her home and her husband at work." Sam pulled on his tie. "The main reason though, Freeda was choked by literally nothing at all. The autopsy report didn't show that she had water in her lungs or anything lodged in her throat. There were no bruises on her neck, so no one choked her. And, Chase Garville, burned from inside out. The doctor couldn't explain how. She found nothing."

"So what are you thinking?" Dean spit food. Sam cringed, grabbing a napkin and wiping the table. He crushed it and flung it at his brother.

"Could be a witch."

"Alright, where are we headed?"

"Berkeley, South Carolina."

They drove for two days, each taking a turn at driving. Any time, Sam was driving, any sign he ever focused on was a blur to him. Any time he made a turn or even changed lanes, he felt like his brain was going fuzzy. He remembered moments, trying to fall asleep. Instead he just watched his big brother mouth out words and hum quietly to the tune of the song that played over the stereo. Sam couldn't catch the words of the song that was playing. It just sounded like a gibberish foreign language to him. But he watched his brother, move about and bang the wheel as quietly as he possibly could. He also remembered Dean hitting the wrong spot and setting the horn off.  
Dean automatically hissed, and retracted his hand like he touched something hot. He glanced at Sam, fear in his eyes because Sam hated being rudely woken from his slumber. Instead, Sam's body was shaking, his face going beat red to keep from laughing. 

"Oops." Dean whispered, and Sam exploded.

The moment they checked into their motel, they hit the bed, each exhausted from the drive. "Witch be there, bitch be here. I hate witches." Dean muttered, before he started snoring.

The next morning they got dressed in their suits. Sam easily got dressed, tying his dress shoes and putting his tie on. Dean struggled with his tie, even after years of getting dressed in his "monkey suit." Sam sighed and pushed his older brother's hands away and straightened his navy blue tie, pushing up the knot and brushing it down his chest. He backed away, grabbing his gun and sliding it home in it's holster.

"Mrs. Greenwill, did you see anything the night of Freeda Garville's death, anything unusual at all?" Sam asked gently. They had stopped to Freeda'a and Chase's next door neighbor, a little old lady in a sun hat and floral dress. She sipped her tea, and shook her head. 

"I saw a woman. A hot one at that, snooping in the Garville's garden. I thought it was strange. She wasn't really dressed for gardening. She wore a black dress that fit her body structure perfectly," The old woman licked her lips and leaned forward. "Had I still be in my prime time, I would have married her and then I would have frickle frackled with her." The woman grinned and winked at the brothers. Sam smiled and glanced at his brother, who was grinning right along with Mrs. Greenwill. 

Dean chuckled, "What are you talking about, you still got it!" 

"God doesn't like liars." She smirked.

After they had wrapped up, Sam got the doors of the Garville's house unlocked. Dean patted his back before he pushed past. As homes go, it was nice. The dining table was topped full with junk but it was nice. They scoured the kitchen, looking through cabinets and under the small table, anywhere they could find a hex bag. Dean made a comment about the possible chance its not a witch, but Sam had poured the contents of vase out onto the counter and picked up a little familiar bag. 

"Hex bag."

"Hex bags mean," Sam muttered.

"Witch. Damn it. Looks like we need to have a talk with the hotty in the black dress." Dean told his brother. Sam only shook his head.

"You go do that. Chase died at work. I'm going to talk with his co-workers and find out if they saw anything."

Sam's next stop was at Chase's work place, the county's garage. He questioned Chase's co-workers, to see what had happened but no one knew. They explained that only Wilma Reese was with Chase when the incident happened and she was staying at home. "She was acting crazy after Chase died. Boss just sent her home. See Wilma had this thing for Chase. I think he had something for her too. They were always close, and Chase always complained that his woman was never enough."  
Sam thanked Gibson, Chase's partner, and asked if he could investigate the garage. Gibson nodded and called everyone from the garage to come and eat lunch. Sam's stomach grumbled. He was pretty hungry too.  
Sam found the hex bag under a tire that was thrown to the side near the back. 

Sam met his brother at a diner, who had already taken the liberty to order a veggie burger for him.  
"Well its definitely a witch." Sam said, tossing the hex bag he found on their table. "Found this at the garage."

"Yeah, and hotty in the black dress, her name is Alex Birley. Smokin' hot and not our witch. I stopped at her apartment and she was all emotional. It turns out, Freeda Garville was Alex Birley's aunt. She had stopped by to get her mother a rose who is currently in the hospital, sick." Dean wiped mustered from the corner of his mouth. "She never knew her aunt was dying inside. Didn't even think to check on her."

"Hold on, if Alex was Freeda's aunt, you'd think she be there a lot, they're family." Sam frowned.

"Well yeah, but not all family members like each other."

"But what if they were close and Alex was at the house regularly. That would mean Greenwill must have seen her before."

"What are you thinking? Sam I can see the wheels spinning in your head." Dean told his brother, sitting his burger down and watching him.

"I'm thinking that I want to talk to Mrs. Greenwill again." Sam said.

Sam kept tapping his foot on the way to the old lady's house. Dean even made mention about Sam being Thumper the Rabbit. But Sam was onto something. His gut churned with an uncomfortable feeling, and a discomforting thought was forming in his head. 

Sam knocked on Mrs. Greenwill's door and waited. When the old woman opened up, Sam's eyes automatically glanced at the two suitcases next to her sofa. 

"Are you going somewhere?" He asked her with a friendly tone. The old woman smiled with her pearly teeth. 

"Oh my daughter is getting married! She just called to tell me!"

"Well congratulations! I just have a question for you." Sam said. "Did you ever see the girl's face, the one that was in the Garville's garden?" 

"I did." She answered.

"Okay, do you know a woman by the name Alex Birley?" Sam asked.

"Freeda's niece, yes I know that girl. I know her well. She's rude and has no respect for her elders." Mrs. Greenwill crossed her arms in disgust, frowning and and glaring. 

"Then you must have known that the woman you saw was Alex. You must have known her well. And I assume you saw the woman's face clearly, with the sun out and about. And I can't help but mention, you had told my partner that God doesn't like liars. Lying is immoral, but so is cheating. Chase was having an affair with a woman by the name of Wilma Reese. But you knew that too." Sam stepped back, as the old woman stepped forward. Her old face twisted in a strange shocked, yet angry look.

"You are a clever creature." She breathed, "But I'm going to have to decline, and debunk whatever theory you've created. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a trip to prepare for." Mrs. Garville smirked scornfully and closed the door. Sam scratched the back of his neck and turned. Now he was sure, he'd found their witch.  
He slid in to the passenger seat and looked forward,

"So?"

"I'm about ninety percent sure." Sam responded, "The other ten percent, isn't so sure. But Dean she looked so unbelievable, like she couldn't believe someone found out. And, she was packing her bags."

"Like she was trying to run."

"Exactly."

"So are we gonna' shoot now or shoot later, John Watson?"

"Wait, why am I John Watson?" Sam asked, meeting his brother's green eyes his own.

"Because Sherlock was the genius and John was his sidekick." Dean said, like it was obvious. Sam just shook his head, not believing his brother. 

"I don't know. Again I'm ninety percent sure, ten percent not." Sam put his knuckles to his mouth. Dean nodded and got out. "Dean? Dean, what are doing?"

Dean trotted up the steps to Garville's door and grinned when she opened again.

"Look detective," Sam heard her say, but Dean pushed her forward and the door slammed shut. Sam got out quickly, and ran up the steps. He twisted the knob and groaned when he found it locked. He backed and threw his leg out, once and then twice. 

"Dean!" Sam yelled. Sam watched as the old woman slid Dean up the wall with ease, her hand gripped around his throat. Sam brought his gun up and fired. He watched as both his brother and the witch dropped. 

"Better late then never." Dean wheezed, coughing as he struggled to get up. Sam helped him. "Hundred percent sure now. Her eyes were glowing. A bit unnatural for a normal old lady. That damn thing had pulled me inside."

They walked towards the door, holstering their guns and Dean patting Sam's back. Sam was completely oblivious to the body rising back up on her feet. The witch slid her thumb over the new holes in head and felt them heal. She spit Sam's bullet into her hand and tossed it.

"Oh boys!" She called sweetly, her aged face tightening and pulling into a much younger face. She smiled innocently, and yanked a clawed hand to her chest. Sam was thrown to his knees and pulled to her feet. The witch threw Dean against a wall. "If you only just stayed out of it. You're right Sam Winchester, to think I killed them. That couple was broken. Chase was a married man, flirting with another woman. And that Freeda,"  
Sam grunted, trying to reach for gun. Mrs. Greenwill reached down and pulled it from his holster. She emptied the chamber and tossed the gun behind her.  
"Freeda didn't care. Women are supposed to take charge of their homes, and when their husband walks out of line, they pull them back. Freeda didn't care. Chase was having sex, so I gave him the pleasure of a lifetime. I gave him enormous amounts of ecstasy, and it burned directly from his core and out. Freeda didn't dare speak to her husband so I took away her ability speak and even breathe." The witch took a breath. "Immoral people who don't want to change, deserve to die. The Garvilles deserved to die, Sammy."

"Don't call me that!" He hissed. 

"And Dean, what am I going to do with you?" The witch walked lightly to Sam's brother, and reached for his gun. Dean couldn't move to block her. He was completely glued to the wall. "You're hip deep in hookers and whores. Your brother is sweet and respectful, minus the shooting me part, but you." The witch clicked her tongue. "How am I going to teach you and little Sammy?"  
The witch flicked her fingers and Sam was spun around and pulled in front of Dean. She looked between the two men, and Sam watched as her eyes lit up. A disgusting idea formed into laughter.  
"Oh I know! Ha! I have the best punishment for you boys!" She clapped her hands together and knelt. "Sam, have you ever been with a man? No? I don't have many problems with you. Your brother on the other hand is a man reeking with immorality, and you're going to help me cure him. Your brother is creature of sex, you are going to make him despise it."

"Leave him alone you bitch!" Dean's fists shook.

"What's going to happen," The witch said gently, "I'm going curse you the same way I did with that Chase. The only difference is, Dean can help you. You can't get a whore for yourself, you can't easily slide by masturbating. He has to help you. By the time he breaks the curse, I'll be long gone, and everyone will be alive." She smiled. "Oh you precious thing. Good luck."  
The witch kissed Sam's mouth and breathed. He felt fire flood down his throat and spread to the ends of his nerves. Pain coursed up his spine. He moaned. 

"Sam!" Dean cried out. The witch chuckled and grabbed her bags.

"Goodbye Winchesters!" She flicked her fingers and Dean dropped to his knees.


	3. Dark and Twisted Parts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very smutty below

Sam could hear a frantic voice behind the pain that built and built within his body. Fire licked up his veins and at his heart. The desperate set of hands that felt up his body burned even more so, Sam was afraid they'd leave scars in the shape of hands and fingers.  
Despite the excruciating pain that pulsed within him, he was also hot. It was a different kind of hot, not painful but certainly annoying. Beneath the need to jump in ice cold water, there was a need and disgusting want, to grab onto his brother's warm body and rub his crotch on his brother's.

"Sam I don't know what to do!" Sam heard his brother choke. "God damn it!"  
Sam didn't know either. In truth, he'd ask his brother to fuck him. That's what the witch wanted, and what he currently wanted too. He needed Dean to. But how was he supposed to ask his brother to do that?

Sam's eyes opened barely, his hand involuntarily sliding down his front. He could see his brother's green eyes, full of fear and confusion. Sam watched sweat fall past his brow and his mouth fall open. Fuck.  
Sam cried out, his spine arching upwards. He grabbed his brother's shoulders and yanked him down, rolling their bodies so that Sam was ontop.

"Sam!" Dean bit, "What are you doing?!"  
Sam ignored his brother, instead he wrapped his teeth around a chunk of Dean's neck and pulled gently, sucking on the flesh just below his brother's jugular. He rolled his hips and groaned, his eyes rolling back. 

"Fuck." He swore, jerking his hips again. In the pit of his stomach, more disgust and regret piled up. What the hell was he doing? This wasn't right! He was humping his own fucking brother like a dog in heat. Dean was probably pissed, angry at him. Dean probably wanted to throw up now, hell Sam wanted to. But he was so lost in lust right now-  
"Fuck!" Sam lashed out, slamming a fist right beside Dean's head. He couldn't get enough pressure on his dick. 

"Sam," Dean breathed. Sam could feel his brother's own appendage hardening slowly beneath his. "Sam what are you doing? We can't. We can't do this!"

"You have to fuck me!" Sam snapped, angry tears falling down his cheeks. "The witch cursed Chase with a sex curse! Fuck!" Sam hissed. He rose, every muscle in his thighs and shoulders flexing painfully.  
"The only way to break it," He panted, "Is to have sex, otherwise it kills you."  
Sam reached down and pulled his buckle loose, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. He wrapped a fist around his dick, but only yanked back his hand. He couldn't even get off on his own. Touching his own dick felt like placing a hot iron on his skin. He sobbed, both annoyance and anger bubbling in his pot of emotions.  
"Please Dean!" Sam begged. He grabbed his brother's hands placed them on his hips. "Help me." 

"God fucking damn it." Dean spit. Sam felt his brother jerk his hips, digging his shaft up Sam's ass cheeks. "Fucking hate this. Fuck witches!"

"No, fuck me." Sam said.

Dean got his little brother's slacks off, working his own clothing off his legs. He was angry at everything, at the witch, the case, himself, even his own fucking brother. 

Sam was crying, fear and self hate gripped him in vice. He was embarrassed, and horny, and he hated it. 

Dean pushed the front of his boxers down wrapped his fingers around his dick, giving it a few tugs before he turned his attention to his little brother. He wrapped his arms around his muscled torso, sliding a hand beneath his ass. He rolled Sam forward and slid a hand into his boxers, a finger finding Sam's entrance. Dean bit his lip. Damn it. 

"Sam I'm going need you to let me up and stay on your knees." Dean's voice shook. This was the worst thing to ever fucking happen in their lives before their parents' death, and their own, and going to fucking hell combined. 

Sam wasn't moving from his spot. Dean had to push against him and shimmy out from beneath him. He pulled his tie loose and shook it from his collar, not bothering with the buttons but pulling his shirts off.  
Standing behind Sam, Dean swallowed. Dean was never with a guy, he never imagined he would ever be with a guy and yet here he was, with his fucking little fucking brother no less. His face was red, and his breathing was uneven. Dean was lightheaded and dizzy.  
He ran his palm down his brother's spine, bending it downward so that his arse stuck up. He closed his eyes and begged to whatever god existed that they'd end this already, but the brothers had already gone too far and it was too late. 

"Dean!" Sam yelled. Dean's nose scruntched and he gave in. He spread his brother's ass and ran his finger down between, finding his hole and circling it. He sucked his finger quickly, coating it in saliva and pressed the tip in. He listened to his brother moan. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying it. Some dark, disgusting, twisted part of him was enjoying every last image and sound that came from his brother. The disgusting part of himself took great pleasure in seeing his little brother bent over on his knees, his face twisted in painful lust. God he hated himself.  
He inched his finger picking apart Sam's hisses, and moans. Any time he hissed and punched the floor, Dean would stop, letting his brother's anal muscles flex around his finger. He added his middle finger next, dripping spit around his fingers. He reveled on how Sam's ass clenched and flexed around his two fingers. 

"Sam?"

"Keep going!" Sam cried out, pulling his ass away slightly and pushing it back. Dean finger fucked his brother, adding digits as he went, slowing down and quickening his pace. A dark smile bloomed in the corner of his mouth. He bit his lip, kneeling down and pressing the tip of his tongue next to his knuckles and running it across Sam's puckering ass hole. He slid his fingers out and replaced them with his tongue, closing his eyes and and tasting his brother. Sam swore. Dean reached around wrapped his fingers around his brother's dick, pumping him slowly. 

"Dean!" Sam gasped, "Now!"

Dean shot up, his bite reddening on Sam's ass. He pressed his dick between Sam's cheeks and pulled his body up, hand around his neck. He whispered something dirty, something he didn't mean to say, and slowly inched his dick inside.  
He fought every ounce of want with every ounce of his control, not to slam into his brother. But Sam's ass muscles were working over time, and Dean could feel every last twitch, flex, and contracting muscle that gripped his dick. His control was quickly slipping.  
"Sam!" He wheezed, swinging his other arm around and showing his fingers in his brother's mouth, yanking a corner of his back. "I can't!"  
Dean slammed his dick to the hilt, and Sam screamed.  
Sam clawed the floor and reached back, a hand slapping Dean's ass by accident as he grabbed it. Dean pounded, eyes glued shut. He imagined every girl he ever managed to bang, with their hair all splayed out, and their made up faces moaning, their eyes lusty, and pussies wet, but his brother kept flashing between them.  
He flipped Sam over, taking a split second to bend over and bite one of Sam's nipples through his shirt, before he seated himself back inside his little brother.  
He bit his tongue, eyes burning as he pounded.  
"I am so sorry Sammy." He cried. "I am so so sorry."

Colors lit behind the brothers' eyes, their lips locked with the other's.


End file.
